


By Any Other Name

by Mysdrym



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29528703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysdrym/pseuds/Mysdrym
Summary: The Curator contemplates the power and point of names.
Relationships: The Accuser | Harriet of the Crimson Shade/The Curator | The Harvester of Avarice
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	By Any Other Name

Names are such odd things, especially to mortals.

And former mortals.

It is something that seems to separate the venthyr who were willed into being from the ones who came later, and the Curator has often found this to be fascinating.

The entire culture around names in Revendreth is to hide one’s mortal name, a true name as some call it.

At first, the Curator thought it was simply because a name has power, and an old name can dredge up the sins that went with it. She assumed that with a mortal’s second chance, a new life begins and it is only fitting that they shed all the trappings of their former selves to embrace the new, to shirk all ties to those awful sins they have overcome. However, as time has crept ever forward, she has noticed that that is not the way of things for many of the mortals. Many still use their original name, though not in the way they used to. While it can be a bane or a chain in the wrong hands, they give permission to use it to a lover as a sign of trust, of intimacy.

Like the Accuser.

Harriet.

It was eons before it came up between them. The Curator would occasionally try a pet name—others used them frequently among lovers, and she found herself curious to learn the appeal herself—but the Accuser is a no-nonsense creature and any ‘darling’s or ‘love’s leave her awkwardly frowning.

After a few too many attempts, the Accuser offers that the Curator can call her Harriet, in private. It is the only moniker she can see herself answering to beyond her current one.

The Curator doesn’t use it often. The name is a gift, and she does not want to squander it or make it so common that it loses its sentimentality.

If such things can happen.

She’s not certain, to be sure.

However, that gift of a name soon becomes glaringly one-sided when the Accuser asks her one evening about hers.

At first, the Curator does not understand what it is the Accuser is asking her, until it finally sinks in, and she, politely, reminds the Accuser that she has no mortal name, for she has always been a venthyr.

The Accuser is quiet for a time before asking, “The Master gave you nothing else?”

An odd question.

“Why would I need another name?”

“The Dark Prince has Renathal as a personal name.”

When the Curator shrugs it off, there is an unpleasant silence for a time that has her going back through her memories, wondering just what it is that has left the Accuser so displeased. Surely she does not feel their relationship unequal because the Curator does not have a name with such potential power over her to give in exchange for the Accuser’s.

While the Accuser’s curiosity begs her to pursue the matter, the Accuser abruptly excuses herself. When next they meet, she does not address what happened before and the Curator lets it go.

It is not until much, much later that the Curator finally brings it up one night, as they lie in the darkness together. “Why does it bother you that I don’t have another name?”

The Accuser is caught off guard by the question and flounders for a moment, something so unlike her. Then, finally, she sighs. “It doesn’t. Not anymore.”

“Why did it?”

“Because he didn’t give you a name. He…it’s a title at best.”

“And at worst?”

“In my language, ‘the’ doesn’t come before a name. It comes before an object.” The Accuser is quiet for a long spell. Just as the Curator thinks that she is done, and is ready to drift off to sleep, the Accuser adds, “I thought…I feared he did not see you as a person, like he does Renathal, but as a thing. I thought it was cruel.”

The Curator laughs at the idea and curls closer to her lover as they take their too-brief reprieve from their duties.

However, after the Accuser has drifted off, the Curator goes over the other names of her fellow venthyr and cannot help but wonder why it is that their master only ever gave Renathal a 'real' name.

In the end, she shakes it off as a cultural difference. Venthyr names are different from mortal names, and that is all there is to it.

Still, she makes a point to use Harriet more often.


End file.
